What Would You Like Today?
by Imagimanga
Summary: Oliver Keen never knew how vexing the people he hired would be. A romantic Frenchman, angry Englishman, over-confident American, self-proclaimed awesome Prussian, stern German brother of said Prussian, otaku Japanese, invisible Canadian, crazy Italians-he didn't even get through all of them! Romance tag? You can't tell me Oliver WON'T get involved in this. !Dropped project!
1. Chapter 1: Pilot

"Alfred, hurry up," Matthew urged, hairdryer in hand. "We can't be late!"

"I'm hurrying!" Alfred yelled back. He buttoned the white shirt until the last three buttons were remaining. He looked around his cluttered room. Where were his- "Mattie! Where are my glasses?"

Alfred heard a small sigh from outside his door. Matthew entered the messy space and, upon seeing Alfred, sighed once more. "It's on your head."

"Oh," Alfred moved the glasses down to sit on the bridge of his nose.

Alfred and Matthew stared at each other before grabbing at each other's clothes and hair. "Okay," the two said simultaneously. "This isn't going to work."

Matthew grabbed the ends of Alfred's shirt sleeves and rolled them up to his elbows. He also used the hairdryer to blow Alfred's bangs into a messy tuck on top of his head. The wind caused Alfred to close his eyes.

Alfred, in return, grabbed at the cuffs of Matthew's shirt sleeves and buttoned them before folding twice. He then grabbed at a comb and straightened Matthew's hair as much as he could. He couldn't do much; Matthew had naturally wavy hair. Well, they were wavy compared to Alfred's hair.

"You're stupid curl won't get into place," Alfred groaned.

"Same," said Matthew. He checked the watch on his wrist. "Agh! Maple!"

"Again with the catchph-" Alfred mumbled.

"We're behind schedule!" Matthew grabbed Alfred's wrist and ran out the house.

Alfred jumped into his car, and Matthew ran to the passenger seat. "Bet I can get there on time!" he said with a grin.

"I bet on my life..." Matthew sighed. "Don't kill us."

Alfred started the engine, then his grin faltered. He turned to Matthew with hesitation. "Do we have to?" He made the most pathetic attempt at a puppy face.

"Alfred," Matthew whispered, biting his lip. How could he convince his brother to do this? There was only one way. "Think of the girls."

Alfred's breath hitched. He knew what his brother's true intentions were, but he didn't want to shame his heroic status. And... what his brother said completely got to him. "Think of..." Alfred gulped, "the girls?"

Matthew nodded. Alfred quickly drove out of the driveway. Their thoughts were similar, but they both knew that they could get this over with. This was the only way they could get out of the mess they started. We can do this. We can do this.

We _will_ do this.

We _have_ to do this.

* * *

"..."

"..."

"How will this help anything?" the older boy asked the younger.

"Shh..." The younger held his index finger on the older's lips. "This will help your immense social anxiety by converting the anxiety into extroverted energy."

"But-"

"Just listen to your introverted thoughts," the younger whispered. "What do they want?"

"They want my fourteen year old brother to stop touching me, actually," the older mumbled.

"Find the source of your shy exterior," the younger brother put both of his hands on his older brother's shoulders. "Now break it."

"What?" the older brother asked.

"Quiet, my brother." The younger brother closed his eyes. "The shattering of your social inexperience requires silence."

"That's pretty contradicting," the older brother sighed. "I have to stay silent in order to break my shy personality?"

"Contradiction leads to doubt, and doubt leads to confusion." The younger brother shook his brother's shoulders gently. "Thus, a spark of curious personality to find the true answer is born out of confusion."

"Leon..." The older brother sighed. "I have to get ready for the newbie..."

"Oliver!" Leon stood up from his seat like lightning. "You need to focus!"

"Hey!" A man with blond hair tied back in a ponytail peeked his head in the doorway of the break room. "I think they are here, already, _mon petit olivier_!"

"Finally!" Oliver stood from his chair. He was about to walk out the break room when Leon stopped him.

"Oliver!" Leon screamed. "Whatever you do don't scare them!"

"If anything," the man outside the break room muttered, "they'll scare him."

"AND," Leon shook his brother's shoulders, "DON'T AVERT YOUR GAZE! DON'T STUTTER WHEN YOU TALK TO THEM! REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE THEIR BOSS! YOU ARE SUPERIOR TO THEM! MAKE THEM FEAR YOU!"

Oliver jumped in shock and confusion. "Y- You just contradicted your other statement!" Oliver sputtered. "Do I scare them or not?! I'm confused!"

"YOU MUST ACT FEARLESS!" Leon's bright eyes bore into his older brother's dark eyes. "YOU MUST NOT LET THEM PUSH YOU TO YOUR LIMITS! REMEMBER TO NOT EXPECT TO MUCH FROM THEM! ALSO, DO NOT FORGET THAT THESE ARE TEENS! THEY COULD SCARE YOU WITH THEIR MENACING DEMEANOR! DON'T FORGET TO TAKE RISKS, BREAK YOUR LIMITS!"

Oliver turned to the other man in the doorway, tears forming in his dark chocolate eyes. "What am I supposed to do?!" he blubbered.

Another man, this one had brown hair with a curl falling out of place, appeared with a stack of papers in hand. "Hey, Leon did you tell Oliver that both of them don't have experience in this position of work? These two have no experience in work at all!"

Leon raised a brow. "Uh, that's something Oliver is supposed to ask them, actually."

"T- Two?" Everyone glanced towards Oliver's face. His eyes were brimming with tears. "Th- there are t- two?"

"Ollie, that's something you're supposed to know before the interview." Leon sighed with exhaustion.

"How am I suppose to do this?" Oliver sniffed. "I can't talk to two people at the same time!" His tears fell to his cheeks and his palms started wiping them away.

"Come on, Oliver, it should be fine," the man with blond hair said with a reassuring smile.

"Ahhhhh!" Oliver completely broke down. He curled into a small ball in the middle of the break room. He tucked his face in between his chest and legs. His entire body shivered from the social anxiety.

"Come on..." The man with brown hair mumbled and took a long stick next to the door and started poking Oliver. "Unless you want me to hit you with this, you will go on with the interview." The man added another comment in his head. He sighed, knowing that if he actually said it Oliver would cry even more.

"Leave me alone to die..." Oliver wailed. "Leave me alone..."

Oh, no. Oliver started his "leave me alone" mantra again. The man with brown hair snapped.

"LISTEN HERE, YOU TOMATO-LOATHING BAS-"

Crashing came from outside the room. It didn't belong to anyone dealing with Oliver right now. It was due to the fact that someone was yelling at the brown-haired man to stop swearing at work or they would lose face. Another crash came; this one because of their shocked reaction to the yelling man screaming in his ear. Once more a crash became, and many voices could be heard screaming at the one who caused it. "Just because everyone else dropped their stuff means you can do it on purpose, too!"

Before the man could finish his statement, the man with blond hair covered his mouth with his hand. "Don't say that or he'll cry even more!"

The angry man waved the long stick in his hand, trying to hit Oliver with it. Fortunately, Leon had restricted the man's arm movement, and the angered man could only wave the stick weakly.

Oliver looked up from his helpless state. He saw the two men and his brother screaming and cursing at each other. He could hear the commotion coming from outside the break room. "Guys..."

* * *

Alfred and Matthew stared at the clock in the car. _7:27_

"Well, we're three minutes early," Alfred said, "so how 'bout we just head home for now."

"Alfred! We promised!" Matthew looked at his brother. "Don't bail three minutes before our interview!"

"We might as well take a short nap before we go in!" Alfred pathetically suggested. "Or we could go get that new video game! It's selling at the game shop thirty minutes from here!"

Matthew looked at his brother. He furrowed his brows a little and pouted. He made sure to tilt his head down and look up to his brother. "Al..." he whined.

Alfred gasped. "How come you can still do that? I can't even get the eyes right!"

"Al!" Matthew threw his hands on Alfred's shoulders. "You promised! I promised! We both promised!" He shook his brother as if doing so could make Alfred barf out an appropriate response.

"...Fine," Alfred responded. "After all, I'm the hero of the day."

Matthew smiled and so did Alfred. They exited the car and walked up to the building. This was the building that would completely change them or break them. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the latter.

* * *

Oliver stood, trembling at the door of the building. The new workers would either help his situation or make it worse.

Hopefully, he thought, it's not the latter.

* * *

 **How was it? I hope you liked it! Please review your thoughts and suggestions! I hope I do well with this fanfic! :)**

 **Your possible thoughts: Wait... but there's a _ROMANCE_ tag. Are you saying that there will be fluff and romance and ships in here?**

 **Of course! I'm not going to lie about my own story! But I won't be telling you what ships are in here... (hehehe) This will mostly be for entertainment, though. That means I'm more focused on making you guys laugh and smile more than pleasing you with written kisses. I hope I can be funny, though...**


	2. Chapter 2: Something Simple

**AN: Hello, everyone! Are people actually reading this? lol Probably not. I don't know if this will ever get any fans. I'm writing for my own entertainment. Anyway, I hope you (if someone is reading this) like this update!**

* * *

 **Something Simple**

Oliver gulped as the two boys entered the building. His thoughts blurred together; what would he say? _Wow, you guys are tall._ No! What a terrible thing to say! _Are you two the new employees?_ Duh! Why else would people come before open hours! _Hello, my name is-_ Too standard! He needed to say something original! What do I do? I may have hired most of these employees but I never can say anything correctly! Frankly, this would be so much easier if they were customers-

"Hey!" one of the boys shouted out. This one looked outgoing and confident. He could see a glint in his blue eyes that reflected his fiery personality. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Oliver could tell that he was right on the spot. Oliver could also tell that this one liked playing sports or working out because of his toned arms.

"Hello," the other boy said. This one was definitely much more down-to-earth than the other. He looked quiet and responsible. His purple eyes sparkled, but not as much as the other's. Oliver couldn't help but compare the two. This one looked suited for behind the scenes work unlike most of the staff. Oliver couldn't help a small smile. He would probably become close to this one.

If there was one thing that completely got Oliver's attention, it was their hair and face. Yes, no matter how you looked at them, their personalities differed very much. One was wild while the other was calm. But the hair (especially the curls) and face... they must be related. Oliver listened to his intuition: they're twins.

All of Oliver's observations happened in an instant, and after that instant was over he realized he still had not said anything.

"Welcome to WorldWide!" Oliver greeted with a smile. Oh, no, he thought, I'm not going to give them the- "What would you like today?"

Oliver could feel the judgment already. His eyes almost flooded with tears. This is great. When Oliver was embarrassed or nervous about talking to people, a fake smile would spread on his face. It wasn't out of politeness to hide his uneasiness. Nervous smiles and small chuckles that could pass as chokes on sobs were the things he had to hide from these two, or Leon would completely flip.

"U- Um," Oliver stuttered, his gaze falling to the floor. _Don't avert your gaze. Don't stutter._ "The interview will take place as the other employees are working so you can observe how they maintain their jobs," Oliver looked back to the boys and smiled.

Alfred and Matthew glanced at each other. They looked slightly confused.

"Therefore, we will be having the interview out on the floor as customers come in to be served. Is that all right?"

"Yes, that's fine," the quieter boy said.

"Follow me to your seats," Oliver mused.

Alfred and Matthew looked at each other once more before following Oliver to a booth near the kitchen. Alfred shuffled in first, then Matthew. Oliver sat across from them.

"Alfred Jones," Oliver read from the papers he held then glanced towards the boy on his right, "and Matthew Williams, right?" After reading Matthew's name, he glimpsed at the boy on his left.

"Yes," Matthew answered.

"I'm Oliver Keen," our interviewer introduced.

Alfred tried his best to sigh as silently as possible. Matthew told him not to speak at all during the interview or he would blow it. Alfred would never do such a thing. After all, he was a hero.

". . . Both of you never had any experience in this field of work," Oliver discussed. His eyes flickered to the boys from the paper. "Why do you want to work here? What are your motives?"

"Well," Matthew began, "I want to start being more independent. I thought that if I had a job I could work towards that."

Oliver looked at Alfred. "And you?"

Matthew mentally slapped himself. He better not say something stupid like "I want money for a video game."

"Uh," Alfred stared at Oliver, "I made a promise with someone. And I want to keep it."

Oliver studied the two's movements. Matthew glanced at Alfred quickly as if he was worried about something. Alfred looked away from Oliver for a millisecond before looking back. Well, thought Oliver, everyone has their secrets. I won't pry too much.

"I noticed that you two don't have the same last name," Oliver said. "Are your parents divorced?"

Alfred and Matthew almost jumped from shock. How did he know they were related?

"Yes," Matthew responded, "they are."

Oliver stared at the papers. What should he ask next? Well, more than information from their speech, he should see them interacting and how they react to the job. As if on cue, a customer entered the building and a server with dark hair walked over to him. _Take a risk._

"Alfred, Matthew, I'd like you to stay here for a while before I come back. If you get hungry or thirsty, you are welcome to ask a server for something." Oliver smiled and stood up.

"Oh," Matthew commented. This seemed a bit different from what most interviews were like.

Alfred thought the same. This interview was so different, yet... simple.

* * *

"Look~! It's the newbies!" a man with brown hair shouted from the kitchen.

"Quiet!" a man with a blond ponytail shushed.

A group of employees peeked from the kitchen door. Some were peeking out of the closet door. The rest of the employees were actually doing their jobs.

"Ooh! Look at that one! Oliver definitely has to hire him!"

"The other looks so scrawny!"

"Can you guys be quiet?"

"The one with rolled up sleeves is pretty attractive, I'll agree with that."

"But he doesn't seem to be talking much."

"The other one is doing most of the talking."

"Oliver's asking questions, already!"

"He should get their numbers~"

"Gross!"

"Can you get your filthy hands off me?"

"Guys! You can get a better look over here!"

Everyone looked across to a man inside the kitchen. The man had white hair and motioned for everyone else to come over.

"Sweet!" they simultaneously exclaimed. They all moved to watch the interview from inside the kitchen.

"Hey!" a stern voice said.

Immediately, they groaned. Not this guy again. Couldn't he loosen up a bit? Well, all of them thought that. But only one turned to address the dampening towel of fun.

" _Rabat-joie*_ ," the blond man muttered. "What is it?"

"Shouldn't you all be working?" the man asked. He was in a waiter's outfit: a white button-up shirt and a bow tie with black slacks. A black apron that tied tied around the waist held pockets for a pad, pencil, and other assortments.

"Shouldn't you?" the man with white hair mumbled.

"Some of us can't work until there are customers," the French man said.

"That's the case for all of us, isn't it?" a girl with long, caramel-colored hair said.

"Just because we need customers to do work, doesn't mean we should be eavesdropping!" a bulky man said. He wore a blue blazer over a white button-up with a black tie and gray slacks.

"Ludwig!" everyone gasped.

"Ah~! Boss~!" A man with brown hair erupted from the group of eavesdroppers. "You didn't get a hug from me yet today~!" The man dashed to Ludwig and jumped.

Immediate gasps ensued. An especially large one came from another man with the same colored hair as the other. Ludwig held out a hand that stopped the man from hugging him.

" _Fratello!_ " A man similar looking to the happy-go-lucky hugger screamed. "What are you doing?! Get off him!"

"Eh~?" The other man stopped struggling to hug Ludwig. "What is it, Lovi?"

The angry man snapped at the other. "You shouldn't hug that man!"

"Lovino, shut up!" a man with a long ponytail yelled. "We don't need your worthless opinions poisoning the food, aru!"

"Can you all be quiet? Oliver might hear us."

"I want you to say that to my face, as-!"

* * *

"Hey, Alfred," Matthew asked, "can you hear that?"

"I can't hear anything over my stomach," Alfred replied with a frown. "I need something to eat."

"Oliver said that we could ask for food," Matthew reminded Alfred, "but that sound-"

"Excuse me! I'd like to order!" Alfred called over the server who was about to return to the kitchen.

The server turned and looked towards Alfred and Matthew. He walked to them and retrieved the pencil and pad from the pocket of his apron. When he arrived at the table, he asked if Alfred would like a menu.

"Uh, do you have any burgers?" Alfred asked, looking at the server.

"Al, you ate one yesterday for dinner!" Matthew scolded. "And the day before that!"

Alfred turned to his brother with a counteractive glare. "We eat pancakes every single morning for breakfast." Alfred poked his brother in the chest. "Every. Single. Morning."

"Alfred, Matthew," Oliver called out. He had emerged from outside the building. He was sweeping the steps for a while, but was caught up in a conversation with an old woman. "Do you want to see the back now?"

Alfred sighed.

"Oh," Oliver said upon the sight of the server, "were you about to order? Sorry."

"It's fine," Matthew responded before his brother could say anything rash. "Let's go see the back, Al."

"By the way," Oliver introduced, "this is Kiku Honda." He gestured towards the server who was about to take Alfred's order.

The man bowed; his short, ebony hair falling forward. "Pleased to meet you." He looked up, revealing dark brown eyes above soft cheeks.

"He's Japanese, so you'll have to get used to his cultural differences," Oliver explained.

"Why do you have to tell us that?" Alfred asked.

"A lot of people from different cultures work here," Oliver continued. "It can be difficult to get used to them."

It can't be that bad, thought Alfred and Matthew.

"Let's go see the back," Oliver urged, motioning for the two boys to follow.

"Eto, Oliver-san," Kiku called, "I don't think-"

Oliver turned his head as he walked towards the kitchen. He made a face by furrowing his brows. What?

Kiku was about to say something, but decided against it. Something would go terribly wrong either way.

As the four got closer to the kitchen, they heard screaming. Oh, no, Kiku thought. This wouldn't be good.

Oliver ran into the kitchen, the other three on his tail. "Wh- What's going on?!"

* * *

 **AN: I hope you liked it! Please review your thoughts or suggestions!**

 ***Before you judge me, I don't know French grammar/vocabulary at all. I just went on wordreference and searched for the translation of killjoy and picked the first thing that came up. If my limited knowledge of French or any other language annoys you, please tell me and I'll stop.**

 **Your possible thoughts: So what are the ships you're going to write about? Please tell us!**

 **Well, I'm open for guesses. Go ahead if you want to guess, maybe I'll be nice enough to PM you if you're right or not! (lol yea, right) It would be fun to read your guesses whether or not I decide to tell you!**

 **Will Alfred and Matthew get acquainted to their new jobs? Find out in the next chapter: _Coffee or Cake, Maybe Together_.**


	3. Chapter 3: Coffee, Cake, Maybe Together

**AN: Hello! ^o^ Hope you like this update!**

* * *

 **Coffee or cake, Maybe Together**

Oliver ran into the kitchen, the other three on his tail. "Wh- What's going on?!"

"Take that back!" the man with white hair yelled. "I am not ugly! Nor am I unawesome!"

The angry Italian turned to him. "I didn't even say that to you, ugly bas-!"

"Unawesome isn't even a word!" The stern server grumbled.

"Awesomeness can declare what is and what isn't a word!" the albino screamed. "And I declare it!"

"Hug me~!" The happy-go-lucky brother ran up to Ludwig. "Hug~!"

"Agh! Feli!" Lovino screamed. "Get off the disgusting thing! And- you get off me!"

"Your brother has brilliant ideas, you know~!" a man with an obvious Spanish accent said.

" _Anglais*!_ " the Frenchmen shrieked. "What did you say about me?!"

"I didn't even say anything to you, Frog!" the Englishman screamed.

"Stop hugging me! Get to work, Feliciano!" Ludwig thundered.

"Uh, I think whatever is in the pot is still alive..." the girl with long, caramel hair squeaked.

"Arthur!" the man with the long ponytail scolded the Englishman. "Did you enter the kitchen without our consent again?!"

"I wasn't anywhere near the kitchen until I saw you guys in here!" Arthur defended himself.

"Agh! It moved again!" the albino squeaked. He jumped as he was right next to the pot.

"Kill it!" the Frenchman ordered, pointing at the pot (or the albino). "Kill it with fire!"

"We're finally burning Gilbert?" a voice piped up with happiness in their voice.

"Who said that?!" Gilbert growled. The pot moved again and bubbles foamed on the ridges between the lid and pot. It inched closer to the albino. "Agh!"

"Someone kILL IT, ALREADY!" the Frenchman squealed.

"Not it!" Someone knelt down and touched their index finger to their nose.

"Not it!" Another repeated the sequence.

One by one, they all knelt down and touched their finger to their nose. Once the arguing workers were silent, they turned their heads to the figures in the doorway. Oh.

But Oliver was too busy getting over shock. He should have seen it coming, but the poor man stood in a confused daze.

Alfred and Matthew turned around. Kiku wasn't there. They looked at Oliver who was still trying to understand what was happening. Their fearful gazes turned to each other. Great.

"Rock! Paper! Scissors!" Alfred shouted as both he and Matthew slapped their fists on their palms on each word. "Shoot!"

Rock and rock.

"Shoot!"

Paper and paper.

"Shoot!"

Scissors and scissors.

Before everyone could groan, Kiku gracefully walked into the kitchen. He had changed into a chef's uniform. He adorned a white chef coat with black buttons and black trousers. Over the trousers was a knee-length apron.

Everyone watched in silence as he walked to the moving food thing and grabbed a spoon sitting next to the pot on a small plate. He popped the lid off the pot and set it aside. As he mixed the strange food thing, he increased the heat severely, causing a huge blaze of fire crackle in front of his chest. He set aside the ladle once the tongues of heat flicked towards him. Kiku stared at the fire for ten seconds then lowered the heat. He placed the lid on the pot and turned to everyone.

"Who was in charge of the omelet?" Kiku asked the crowd.

"That was supposed to be an omelet?!" Alfred burst out, a horrified look on his face.

Oliver suddenly snapped out of his daze. "Oh," he answered nonchalantly, "I was."

" _Mon petit olivier_ ," the Frenchman shook his head with empathy.

Oliver stepped to the omelet(?) and peeked into the pot. After a moment, he placed the lid back on the pot. "Ah!" he realized. He turned to face the crowd, a fearful expression plastered on his face. "Wh- who started the yelling?"

No one said anything. Oliver sighed. How would he get them to say anything? "I- If you don't confess," Oliver stuttered, "I'll be f- forced to cut your sa- salary!" A sudden expression came to his head: _Very threat. Much scary._ He mentally slapped himself.

"It was their idea!" Gilbert pointed to the Spaniard and the Frenchman.

" _Traidor,"_ the Spaniard muttered, a dark look emanating from his face.

"It was _your_ idea!" the Frenchman prattled.

"But you all actually went along with it!" Arthur growled.

"You might want to write that you betrayed us in your _diary_ ," the man with the long ponytail said.

"Don't speak about it like that!" Gilbert hissed. "It's awesome like me!"

"Francis! Antonio! Gilbert!" Oliver scolded rather pathetically. "Y- You have to stop spying on interviews! It's distracting! And i- it disrupts the customers!"

"Aww!" Francis giggled. " _Petit Olivier_ is blushing!"

"I-" Oliver blushed even more, "I'm not blushing!"

"Leave Oliver alone," Ludwig snapped.

"Oh!" Alfred suddenly realized. "That's what you meant!"

"Al," Matthew sputtered, "you shouldn't shout suddenly like that!"

"Oh, come on! You think that, too!" Alfred turned to his brother.

"Um, Alfred, Matthew?" Oliver called. "Let me introduce you."

The crowd stood up from their kneeling positions and stood facing the twins.

"Francis, the romantic French" -the Frenchman smiled and flipped his hair- "Gilbert, the self-proclaimed awesome 'Prussian'" -the albino pointed to himself with his thumb and grinned- "and Antonio, the Spaniard obsessed with Lo- uh..." -the Spaniard smiled and waved- "they make up the bad trio. Everything—secret or not—gets to them. Don't involve them in your mischief; they'll ruin it to benefit themselves."

"Wha-" Gilbert started, "What does that mean?"

Oliver continued. "Yao, our chef veteran," -the man with the long ponytail glanced at the two brothers- "Lovino, older brother of Feliciano- I imagine you don't need to tell the difference-" the older-looking brother sneered while the younger-looking smiled and waved- "Elizaveta, she's pretty sane most of the time," -the girl with long, caramel hair smiled- "and Arthur, he's not allowed in the kitchen for health standards," -the Englishman nodded in response- "they're not part of the bad trio, but be careful, anyway."

"And," Oliver gestured to the man in the suit, "this is Ludwig. He helps manage this place a bit, even though his older brother works here as a server."

"I'm not too shabby at my job," Gilbert huffed.

"And to think," Alfred said with a disapproving look, "that the older brother acts less mature."

"What did you say?!" Gilbert took a knife from the counter and trudged towards Alfred. Ludwig only gave him a menacing look, and that was enough to keep him from injuring the boy.

"Al," Matthew whispered, "that wasn't nice!"

"O- Okay, let's get going, you two," Oliver stammered. "There's still a bunch more people and stuff I have to show you!"

* * *

"So," Oliver explained, "we have a downstairs restaurant and it is restricted to only adults. Only the older employees are allowed in there, as well. I don't want the need to break anything up there. Here are the rules. Most weren't recommended by me, so you have to deal with them."

"If they weren't made by you," Alfred asked, "why do we have to follow them? You're the boss, right?"

"Yes, but..." Oliver stumbled on his choice of words, "I still think that we should follow these set of rules."

"It's called Oliver's Rules even though most of them aren't yours..." Matthew commented.

"Well, my brother made these rules and thought it would be best to make people think they were mine." Oliver explained. "Anyways, I think that Alfred should be a server on the floor and Matthew a chef."

"Oh," Matthew glanced at Alfred then back at Oliver, "I see." His heart fell. He knew that Alfred was better suited for the more talkative job, and that he should be in the kitchen. But Matthew couldn't help but feel inferior to his brother. Matthew was older! How come he was overshadowed by his younger twin?

"Excuse me, Oliver-san?" Kiku walked up to them. "Ludwig needs to see you in the break room. Should I take over?"

"Thank you, Kiku," Oliver said with a relieved smile. "I'll be back." Oliver left to go to the back of the restaurant.

"Hey!" Alfred burst, "You're in a server's outfit again!"

Kiku looked down at his attire. "Yes, I am."

"You were wearing a chef's outfit earlier, weren't you? Why?" Alfred gushed.

"I am allowed to take over a server or chef at any time. I'm good in the kitchen or on the floor," Kiku explained with a polite smile. "Should I show both of you to the kitchen?"

After Kiku explained the basic set of kitchen rules, he told them that their uniform would be in the back of the restaurant where the changing rooms would be. They would start working tomorrow at 8:00. Kiku also told them to look over Oliver's Rules.

"Hey! Watcha making?" Alfred asked Antonio as they looked around the kitchen.

"Coffee." Antonio paused. "Cake."

"Isn't it supposed to be both?" Gilbert asked.

"I'm pretty sure it is..." Antonio mumbled.

Matthew looked over Oliver's Rules. "What?"

"What is it, _mon fils_?" Francis asked.

"The first rule is a bit... strange."

Everyone glanced at the paper Matthew examined.

"Oh, yeah," Elizaveta said, "we all think most of the rules are weird."

Everyone stared at the rule, trying to make sense about what caused this rule to come about.

* * *

 _ **Oliver's Rule #1: No romantic relationships inside the workplace that hinders labor.**_

* * *

 **AN: I hope you liked this chapter! It seems pretty boring to me, but it's kind of relevant to the story. Please review your thoughts or suggestions!**

 ***Again, before you judge me, I don't know any grammar rules when it comes to French. I used _Anglais_ to say Englishman and _fils_ to say son _._ I can speak Spanish, but I'm not French. If my limited knowledge of any language annoys you, please tell me and I'll stop.**

 **What mischief awaits the employees next time? Find out in the next chapter: _Apple Pie_.**


	4. Chapter 4: Apple Pie

**AN: Hi, again! Hope you like this update! :3 I'll be getting more time, thankfully, to write due to summer break.**

* * *

 **Apple Pie**

* * *

 _ **Oliver's Rule #2: If I don't want you asking questions, you must refrain from asking questions.**_

* * *

"Hey," Alfred asked as he got into the car, "why does everyone call Oliver 'Oliver'?"

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.

"Why don't they call him Mr. Keen?" Alfred rephrased as he started the engine. He drove out the driveway and onto the street. "They should be calling him that, right?"

"I don't know," Matthew answered. "Maybe you should ask the other workers."

The rest of the drive went silently, only the sounds of cars were heard. Once they reached the restaurant, the two looked at each other for relief. Matthew then spoke the secret words.

"Think of the girls."

Alfred nodded. "Same to you."

They exited the car and enter the building's back entrance. They find the changing rooms and change into their work clothes. Alfred adorned the waiter's outfit while Matthew wore the chef's uniform. When they finished, they walk out the changing room and went to the break room to report to Oliver about their presence. Oliver was sitting at a square table and talking to a girl with

"Oh," Oliver said at the sight of them, "You're here, already? The people I'm waiting for still aren't here, so I guess I can start by introducing Natalia to you."

"Hello, I am Natalia Arlovskaya," the girl introduced herself. "I love my brother dearly."

"You have a brother?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, and you will never, never, never, never," Natalia drolled on, "never, never, never TOUCH him."

"O- Okay," Alfred mumbled.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Natalia screamed.

"I won't touch your brother!" Alfred yelled in response.

"Good," Natalia said, and walked out the break room.

Once she left, Alfred turned to Oliver. "Where in this building does she work?"

"She works in the kitchen downstairs," Oliver answered. "I can't have her tainting our status."

"Why specifically the kitchen downstairs? Is she not allowed in the one here?" Matthew asked.

"I can't have her tainting our status, but I need someone to break up fights downstairs," Oliver explained.

Matthew and Alfred looked at each other and gulped. Working here wouldn't be easy.

"You read the rules, right?" Oliver asked.

"Yes," Matthew answered.

Oliver politely smiled and stood up from the chair. "There are a couple others who work downstairs that I'd like you to meet, but I don't think we have much time right now." Oliver exited the break room and Matthew and Alfred followed. When they exited the room, they saw Arthur and Francis.

"It was just a joke, _Anglais_ ," Francis said, trying to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Stop messing with the customers!" Arthur yelled. "You shouldn't even be allowed on the floor!"

"Francis _isn't_ allowed on the floor, Francis," Oliver said, breaking up the fight.

" _Olivier!_ " Francis greeted with a smile. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm doing well. But Francis," Oliver continued, "I told you that you're not allowed on the floor." Francis only laughed. Arthur sighed in response to his laughter. "Can you start teaching Matthew and Alfred now?"

Arthur and Francis turned their gazes to the boys and nodded.

"Matthew," Oliver said, "Francis will be teaching you the basics in the kitchen. He'll tell you in detail about where everything is and what you'll be doing at first." Francis winked, and Matthew shivered. "Alfred, Arthur will teach you how to manage the floor, customers, and the cashier."

"Okay! All set!" Alfred said with a thumbs up. He looked at Arthur who only sneered.

"I can't believe I have to teach this mess how to clean up a mess," Arthur muttered.

Francis shook his head. "Don't be so mean, Arthur."

Oliver dismissed the four and they left, Francis and Matthew to the kitchen and Arthur and Alfred to the floor.

* * *

" _Matthieu,_ " Francis asked, "do you speak French?"

"Well," Matthew answered quietly, "I took the course in high school."

Francis' eyes flickered towards Matthew and he felt a smile dance on his face. " _Mon fils,_ it seems that you and your brother have different surnames. Would it hurt to ask why?"

Matthew shook his head slightly. "Our parents are divorced. I grew up with our mom in Canada. Alfred grew up with our dad in America."

"And what happens to bring you brothers together?" Francis asked.

"Ever since we were little our parents would go to Niagara Falls and let us play together each July," Matthew explained. "We stopped going when we started sixth grade. We haven't seen each other in seven years." Matthew was smiling bittersweetly at this point. He looked down at the floor of the kitchen. "We wanted to see each other again, so we decided to go to college together."

Francis noticed the small smile and smiled himself. "And now you're here." Francis picked up a slip of paper and read it. "By the way, why are you two working here?" He turned to Matthew and felt a ghostly aura around him.

"Um," Matthew mumbled, "it would be better if you didn't ask that."

Francis stared, shocked. "Okay."

* * *

"And that's how—Are you listening?" Arthur asked.

Alfred looked up from his phone. Arthur had used up twenty minutes talking about how to work a cashier. Alfred decided to play a game on his phone while listening. "Yeah."

"No, you weren't!" Arthur yelled. "Stop playing around. I might as well repeat myself since you weren't listening!"

"You shouldn't. You're boring."

Arthur was practically at the height of bursting into a fit of anger. _Calm down. Calm down._ "Then I should just continue with how to treat the customers."

"I know! I know!" Alfred raised his hand like a grade schooler with a confident answer for the teacher. "You have to treat them nicely!"

Arthur deadpanned. "And?"

"And you have to make sure they're happy and stuff! You have to make sure you don't spill anything on them! Make sure you don't give them the wrong order! Smile! Be happy and keep them happy!" Alfred bombarded Arthur with answers.

"What if you drop something on the floor?"

"Clean it up, duh!" Alfred answered. He stuck out his tongue. "I'm not an idiot!"

"You certainly seem like one to me," Arthur mumbled. He raised the volume of his voice. "What happens if the customer is mean and you didn't do anything wrong?"

"Tell them that they're not being very nice! I have to be the hero that saves the day!" Alfred grinned.

"What if they don't stop? What if you can't be the hero of the day?" Arthur asked.

Alfred's grin faded. What? Alfred stared in shock. Alfred always thought that everything would work out well. _What if I really can't be the hero?_ Alfred waved away the thought. It wasn't as if this was a dire situation. "Then I . . ." Alfred was at a loss of words. He really didn't know how to handle that kind of situation.

Arthur sighed. "Just ask for someone's help. Preferably someone like the chief."

"Who's the chief?" Alfred asked.

"Kiku is the chief," Arthur answered. "He's pretty good. You know that he works both on the floor and in the kitchen, right?" Alfred nodded. "Oliver trusts Kiku the most out of all of us, honestly. It's because he's so hardworking and responsible. It doesn't seem like Kiku would break any of the rules, too."

The door behind them opened and a woman and a little girl walked into the restaurant.

"Welcome to WorldWide!" Arthur greeted.

Alfred quickly followed up. "What would you like today?"

The woman asked for a booth and Arthur led her to the nearest one and let her sit down with her daughter. Arthur turned to Alfred. "Your turn." Arthur left and walked to the back of the restaurant.

Alfred quickly grabbed a menu and a kids' menu from the table that held the cashier. He placed the menu in front of the mother and the kids' menu in front of the girl. "What would you like to start with?"

"I'd like some water please. Katie, what do you want?" the mother asked.

"I want . . ." the girl looked at her mother then at Alfred, "I want . . ." Her amber eyes looked straight at Alfred's blue eyes. "I want apple pie!"

Alfred smiled. "Is that it for now?"

The mother smiled back. "Can you please add some milk to that for her? Thank you."

Alfred left the two and hurried to the kitchen as he wrote down the order. He placed the order in a clip above the counter in front of the kitchen. "One apple pie!" Alfred then quickly placed a glass in his hands and filled it with drinking water. He picked up a milk box from inside a fridge and walked back to the woman and daughter.

"Here's your drinks," Alfred said, placing the milk box and water onto the table.

"Apple pie! Apple pie! Apple pie!" the girl happily sang. She turned to Alfred and grinned. "You know, I love apple pie! Did you know that?"

"I'm beat," Alfred said, leaning against the wall.

Matthew nodded. "Lunch hour was pretty rough." He was standing next to Alfred. Both were in the kitchen, watching everyone talk and clean up.

"Hey!" A boy walked into the kitchen. He had dark brown hair and sported a soccer uniform.

"Hey!"

"Hello!"

Alfred and Matthew stared. Who was he?

The boy turned to the two and introduced himself. "I'm Leon Keen, Oliver's younger brother. I know who you guys are."

"Oh," Alfred said. "That means you're the one who wrote those rules, right?"

Everybody stopped what they were doing and stared at the conversing pair. Frankly, nobody had actually asked that question before; they were curious.

Leon blinked. "What?"

* * *

 **AN: Hope you liked it! Please review your thoughts or suggestions!**

 **Who will we meet next? What exactly is up with Oliver? Was he lying about the rules? Find out in the next chapter: _Strawberry Shake_.**


	5. Chapter 5: Strawberry Shake

**Strawberry Shake**

 _ **Oliver's Rule #3: No one is allowed to switch jobs (floor to kitchen, upstairs to downstairs, etc.) unless I permit them.**_

"You know," Alfred said, waving a piece of paper in front of the boy's face, "Oliver's Rules?"

The boy snatched the paper causing Alfred to jump. Well, Leon had a big personality. "Hm... Yes, of course I remember. I wrote these."

"Yeah, you did." Antonio said. "Why don't you tell us why?"

"Because," Leon said, "Oliver is a terrible big brother. Such a loser."

"He must love you dearly," Francis mumbled. "And as you know, these are our new workers." He gestured to Matthew and Alfred.

Leon hummed a response. "'Grats. Hey, Gilbert!"

The albino ran over right away. "Strawberry shake?" he asked with sweat on his face.

The young boy grinned. "You know me so well."

* * *

 **AN: WAIT!**

 **After giving it (maybe a little less than) a lot of thought, I have decided not to continue this. Why?**

 **Because I have better plans. I'm going to drop this and begin a different story.**

 **I love Leon for some reason, so I'll be throwing him into that one, too. Maybe Oliver will also be an OC for it.**

 **But I'm not finished with the announcements yet! I am not done writing the first chapter of the new story as of now. (For those of you who are reading this in the future, I may have uploaded already.) The only elements it will have similar to this is the restaurant-like setting, most of the characters, and the ships I have planned out. What's the title of this work?**

 _ **The Breath of Warm Clouds**_


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